


The Headspace - A Sequel

by Udunie



Series: The Headspace [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amputation, Amputation Kink, Bestiality, Body Modification, Come Inflation, Knotting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Manipulation, Monsters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pigs, Prosthetics, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 08:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18133343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: “People are weird,” he said darkly. “The sheriff’s kid is acting like I personally ran over his dog and then turned around to do it again. And now his father is giving me looks.”Peter wasn’t sure who the sheriff’s kid was, but he knew that as much as Derek liked to act like he was a hermit, free of societal obligations, his nephew actually craved approval like nobody’s business.“Well, did you?” he asked, just to be an asshole, and smoothly stepped out of the way of the rock Derek threw at him.“No. Then again, Stiles is a dick,” he murmured.It was only thanks to Peter’s impeccable control and unrivaled poker face that he didn’t give himself away.





	The Headspace - A Sequel

**Author's Note:**

> Hooo boy, here we go again with this shit :D  
> Please read the tags, and let me know if you think I missed one!
> 
> Also, if you haven't read the first part of the series, this will not make much sense, so please do that!
> 
> As always, all my love to Emma <3
> 
> Also x2, I don't know when exactly I'm going to update this, but I will!

Peter arrived a bit late to Talia’s I’m-Running-for-Mayor garden party. Then again, spending his hard earned vacation days back in good ol’ dusty Beacon Hills just to be a biological prop for his sister’s campaign wasn’t exactly his idea of fun.

The first thing he saw when he stepped into the yard was Derek sitting under a tree, alone, scowling up a storm, so he made a beeline for him in the hopes of aggravating him further. Just the usual.

“Hello, nephew! What got you in such a cheery mood on this lovely Friday?” he asked, sipping on his drink.

“Hello, Peter,” Derek said with the tone of someone who just stubbed his toe after getting locked out of his car in the rain. It was a  _ very  _ specific tone. 

It was always a pleasure to interact with his family.

For a moment he thought his nephew would just ignore his question, but then Derek nodded towards a group of people huddled around the grill.

“People are weird,” he said darkly. “The sheriff’s kid is acting like I personally ran over his dog and then turned around to do it again. And now his father is giving me  _ looks _ .”

Peter wasn’t sure who the sheriff’s kid was, but he knew that as much as Derek liked to act like he was a hermit, free of societal obligations, his nephew actually craved approval like nobody’s business.

“Well, did you?” he asked, just to be an asshole, and smoothly stepped out of the way of the rock Derek threw at him.

“ _ No _ . Then again, Stiles is a dick,” he murmured.

It was only thanks to Peter’s impeccable control and unrivaled poker face that he didn’t give himself away.

“ _ Stiles _ ? What kind of name is that?” he asked while furiously trying to remember ever even seeing the sheriff’s kid. What were the fucking chances?

Derek shrugged.

“Beats me. He’s in college anyway, so it’s not like he will be around for long.”

Fuck. Name checks out. Age about right.

But, at least things just got a  _ lot  _ more interesting.

***

Peter sauntered over to the grill, plastering on his best smile. The burgers smelled amazing, but with every step he took, he could smell something even more enticing.

Namely, the familiar, lanky young man standing next to the sheriff and chatting with Laura.

“Laura,” Peter said, taking care to brush up against Stiles to get to his niece for a quick peck on the cheek.

“Peter,” she said with an almost honest smile. “Mom’s been looking for you.”

He shrugged, turning towards the humans instead. He could remember the sheriff back from a decade ago when he still lived here.

“Sheriff Stilinski, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. Then they both watched as Stiles seemed to be choking on his burger and having an aneurysm at the very same time.

“Son, you alright?” Stilinski asked when the boy started getting decidedly blue in the face.

Peter put on his concerned-but-capable face, grabbing Stiles’ elbow.

“Oh  _ dear…  _ Come on, I will get you some water in the kitchen,” he said as he led him towards the house. 

***

Peter waved a few hellos to the guests he recognized as he dragged Stiles back towards the house. Thank everything that’s holy, the kitchen was blessedly empty, granting them a few seconds of privacy before someone inevitably stumbled in.

Stiles finally seemed to have swallowed whatever he was actually choking on, and the way he looked - flushed and with tears in his eyes - gave Peter some very fun flashbacks to the last time they had seen each-other almost two months ago.

“You,” the boy wheezed out, like an accusation, yanking his arm out of Peter’s hold.

It only made him grin wider. He couldn’t believe this was happening. God - or more like  _ Satan  _ \- really worked in mysterious ways.

“Me,” he said, filling a glass from the tap and holding it out. It was almost an echo of that dingy apartment, and Stiles seemed to realize it too, taking it with a shaky hand, unable to look into his eyes.

“Is… Is that guy actually your partner?” he asked in a murmur, and it took Peter a second to figure out who he was talking about. Then he burst out laughing. 

Stiles gave him a dark look.

Peter crowded him up against the cupboard, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“He’s actually my nephew,” he said, his lips brushing against Stiles’ skin.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when he got water spit all over himself.

Peter made a face, looking down on his soaked shirt, then up at Stiles who had a hand over his mouth, still coughing into his palm.

“Look what you’ve done,” Peter said with an exaggerated sigh. “Now we both need to change.”

***

His room was pretty much how he left it when he went to college - Talia could be sentimental like that, no matter what big game she talked - even the sound of the lock clicking into place was familiar.

They just stood for a second, looking at each other in the dim light. 

Peter wouldn’t have admitted it for the world how relieved he was when Stiles made the first move, pressing him up against the door with surprising gusto, smashing their mouths together.

Peter didn’t need more encouragement, pushing a thigh between the boy’s legs, making him moan into his lips. It was only natural to raise his hand, running the very tips of his fingers over the nape of Stiles’s neck.

The boy shivered against him, his hands fisted in Peter’s shirt. 

“Oh my god,” he said breathlessly, making him smile.

Peter bit at his already reddened lips, pretty much done playing.

“Aw, what’s the matter, darling? Do you want it again? Do you want to go back and-”

“ _ Yes _ . Yeah, please.”

And really, who was he to argue with such a polite boy?

He still couldn’t stop himself from growling, suddenly hungry for it. He’d thought about Stiles so many times since then. Never in his life did he ever find someone who could keep up with him, who could take everything Peter threw at him without breaking.

“No request this time,” he gritted out, twisting his fingers into Stiles’ hair to keep his head in place as he kissed him. Hard. “Just you and me.”

Stiles panted, his eyes already glazed over.

“Do it,” he whispered, licking his lips. “Whatever you want.”

Peter smiled.

***

He couldn’t help feeling an overwhelming  _ thrill  _ at being back in Stiles’ fascinating head. Everything was buzzing around him with endless ideas, possibilities, so many threads of unformed fantasies that he had a hard time orienting himself at first.

Better to start where they left off, and go from there.

Versailles was still where he left it, and so was the sleeping boy on the bed, covered in their come and his own juices.

Peter didn’t bother with Derek for now, his focus solely on Stiles’ body while he searched his brain for clues on how to continue. Yeah, he might have had free reign over things now, but that didn’t mean he wanted to blow the boy’s mind any less.

First, he got rid of the gag, running his thumb over the indent the strap of it made over Stiles’ silky cheek. Peter’s eyes ate up every inch of him. His tits still had the marks of his nephew’s teeth, his womb was swollen with Peter’s seed, body stinking from the mix of come and piss splattered over it.

Peter was hard already, and there was absolutely no reason to hold himself back.

He scooped out some come from the boy’s cunt, and smeared it over his cock, fucking into his ass as soon as he was slippery enough. He didn’t bother with keeping Stiles’ conscience down, and had to grin as his eyes snapped open when he bottomed out.

Stiles moaned, squirming on the covers like a stranded fish, but he had nowhere to go. 

“You know,” Peter said, pulling back and slamming his hips forward with enough force to knock the breath out of him, “I could knot your ass and just go on a walk with you hanging off it.”

“Oh god…” the boy said, his throat still sore from the memory of Derek’s cock.

“Would you like that, darling?” Peter asked, but it looked like the boy was lost for words for now, so he palmed his little come-belly instead, stroking his palm over it, feeling the firmness.

“Ah, just look at that. You’re still so full… We better get rid of that before you catch with my pups,” he said sweetly before pressing down on it roughly.

Stiles cried out, his eyes wide. Peter could practically feel it when the mouth of his poor little womb gave out, and a second later he was soaked with the come spraying out of his cunt. He clucked his tongue, patting Stiles’ belly. 

“What a mess. I hope you know I will expect you to clean it up.”

Stiles just shook his head, his face red, the muscles in his stomach clenching and relaxing from time to time. 

Peter let him bask in it, leaning forward a bit so he could fuck him harder.

Stiles’ ass was amazing. Maybe it was the memory of Derek’s come already in there, maybe it was the sweet way it clung to him, but it only took a few moments for Peter’s knot to start to form. He didn’t even try to delay it. It looked like he needed to take the edge off before they could proceed to wherever Stiles’ perverted little mind took them.

The boy was biting his lower lip adorably, face all red and scrunched up when Peter’s knot finally caught on his rim, too large to be pulled out again, and then he moaned when he started coming, all that fresh, hot come flooding his insides.

Peter ran his hands up and down Stiles’ sides, just enjoying the silk of his skin as the waves of his orgasm washed over him.

“Mm… Yeah, you’re beautiful, darling,” he growled, taking the boy’s tits in his hands and squeezing down, uncaring of the bruises, or the nipples that looked bitten raw.

“Ah, shit, stop…” Stiles begged, his eyes filled with tears so beautifully. The sight of him just made Peter squeeze harder. He massaged the boy’s breast roughly, digging his fingers in until he could feel Stiles tighten around his knot.

“That’s right. Milk me, darling,” he said with a smile. 

He let go of him for a second, but only so he could slap one of his tits, making it bounce. Stiles’ whined, head snapping back, displaying his beautiful neck, so Peter did it again. Then again, until those lovely titties were covered with the red imprints of his palm.

Stiles was completely glassy eyed when he finally deigned to stop, covered in sweat, his cock hard and leaking again.

Peter palmed the boy’s erection with a smile.

“You’re a real masochist, aren’t you, darling?” Stiles didn’t reply, his eyes skitting away from him, his blotchy blush blooming against his pale skin. “Aw, it’s alright, darling. I’m just wondering, what  _ else  _ are you?” Peter asked. He didn’t mind the shameful silence. He wasn’t listening to the boy, he was listening to the thought fragments all around him, trying to catch the one that was the  _ most  _ shameful. “You’ve paid me to get in your head and make you into a helpless cock-sleeve, I’m sure there is more.”

Stiles shook his head, his mouth stubbornly closed. But Peter? Peter was already on track.

“You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe you  _ are  _ too fucked up in the head, I don’t think you should live like this anymore,” he said with a serious tone, already busy working, building this world beyond the room they occupied. Stiles’ eyes snapped back to him, wide and shining wetly.

“W-what?”

Peter gave a gentle pat to his hip and pulled back a bit, trying to see if he could work his cock out. It took a bit of tugging, but he did it, popping his knot out and making the boy jerk, his hole gaping and drooling out pearly come.

“I mean, maybe it’s time you settled down, you know? You need someone to make an honest man out of you. Someone you can have kids with. Someone… family oriented, who can take your mind off all these dirty fantasies,” Peter told him, smiling. He left Stiles on the bed, walking up to the huge wardrobe in the corner. He took out a large box - that he created out of nothing just a second ago - from the bottom, carrying it back to the bed.

“Of course, you will have to get to the altar first,” he added. He took out a few mechanical parts from the box to show him. They were painted a metallic neon pink. “So let’s get you back on your feet.”

“What are those?” Stiles asked, trying to scoot away from him to no avail, making Peter sigh.

“I’ve just told you, darling, now stay still,” he ordered. He fitted the first to the ball of Stiles’ shoulder, pressing it against his skin until it stuck.

“What are you doing?” he boy asked again, and then jerked when the thing started moving. Peter attached the next one to his other shoulder, and then fitted the rest to where his legs should have been. The mechanics were silent, kicking in the air as Stiles’ tried to move. He could feel the boy panic, not understanding what was going on, so he easily picked him up, putting him on the ground so he was balancing on his four new limbs. They ended in matte black tips.

“Come on, look at it,” Peter offered, stepping away to reveal a full length mirror behind himself.

“No,” Stiles said, as he took in his reflection. The boy was standing on four, short pig legs, sleek and bright and pink and absolutely lovely. “No, please…”

But Peter wasn’t listening to him, because he could feel that special mixture of awe, horror and excitement in Stiles’ conscience around him that was almost familiar now.

“Don’t be like that, darling, this is not the time,” Peter tutted, leaning down to slap his ass hard enough that he almost fell over. “Try taking a few steps, you don’t want to embarrass yourself on your big day, do you?”

For all his protesting, Stiles bit his lip and tried. The pig legs moved perfectly, like they were his own, hooves clicking against the floor. It gave Peter a few seconds to make himself presentable too, conjuring a neat, black tux onto his body.

“That’s it! See, you’re a natural little piglet!” Peter told him, basking in the spike of the boy’s shame and arousal. “Now all you need is the finishing touches.”

From the box, he took out the rest of their accessories. A collar, a hairband with cute little pig ears, a nose hook and a new gag, all of them bright and pink. Peter had enough sense to put on the collar first, so that he could keep Stiles in place when he wanted to run from the nose hook. 

Just for good measure, he still slapped him for trying.

“Hush, darling. Your fiance thinks it looks good on you,” he said as he tightened it, forcing the tip of Stiles nose up and up and up, stretching his nostrils until he was almost unrecognizable.

“Perfect,” he said with a smile, shifting a bit to let Stiles see the finished work. “Look at you, all ready to be wed.”

Stiles looked up at him with wide eyes, making desperate little sounds in the back of his throat. Peter ruffled his hair before standing, taking the pink leash in his hand and starting for the door. To his credit, Stiles only dragged his feet a little.

“Come on, darling. We can’t leave your fiance waiting for too long.”

***

They went down a sunlit corridor, covered on one side by windows from floor to ceiling. For a second, Peter considered creating them guests for the occasion. It would have been easy enough to conjure up every person Stiles ever knew to witness the festivities, but when he digged a bit deeper he had to realize that that would be a bit too far for his sweet little piglet. Of course, he still could have done it, but freaking the boy out was not what he was going for.

But maybe it was better like this anyway. More intimate.

There was a door at the end of the hallway, and Peter knew he had to create Stiles’ future husband by the time they reached it. He already had a general idea, but once again, he found himself with too many choices as he tried to grasp at the boy’s fantasies. It was a bit like being unable to pick a show on Netflix. Not like Peter ever did _that_.

But thankfully, Stiles’ anticipation was building, and it lit his imagination on fire, making it all the easier for Peter to snatch a few out of his head.

He stopped just before the door, looking down at the boy. He did look adorable balancing on his cute, pink piglet legs, his face distorted by the ring gag and the nose hook and messy with drool and tears.

“Are you ready, darling? This is your big day, after all, and I can assure you, your husband will give you all the love and care that you need,” he said with a grin, making him whine.

Peter pushed the door open, revealing a garden decorated for a wedding. The grass was luxuriously green, the path in front of them covered in white pebbles, the arbor at the end lush with blooming white roses.

But Peter imagined Stiles’ crying had little to do with the scenery, and more with the gigantic pig-like creature waiting for him at the end.

It was huge, larger than any pig had a right to be. It was fat and pink, covered in sparse, rough and bristly fur that stood up in a mane along his back.

“Ah, isn’t he handsome?” Peter said, incredibly satisfied by the emotions he could feel coming off the boy. Oh, there was fear, there was a hint of panic, but neither of those could overpower the shameful lust he was trying so valiantly to hide. The poor thing should have learned by now that there was no hiding from Peter here. Then again, the reluctance was half the fun.

“Come along now, darling, it’s not polite to be late to your own wedding.”

He almost had to pull Stiles along. It was understandable, since every step closer revealed some new detail about the monster waiting for him.

Peter had to admit, he couldn’t have conjured up something like this even if he tried, but it seemed like the boy’s imagination knew no boundaries.

The pig had disproportionately large balls, the size of basketballs, and they hung so low that they were only about an inch off the ground. And that cock… It was long and thick and had a vaguely corkscrew shape that promised a… unique experience.

Stiles was openly crying, but Peter didn’t let him dally for long, and when they were close enough, the pig turned a bit, revealing his face. The boy choked back a sob. The monster had a face somewhere between a pig and a man, with a much shorter snout than an animal, and his ears sat lower too. It was disgusting, and the thick drool dripping from his open mouth didn’t help either. He grunted as his eyes fell on Stiles, and his hips involuntary twitching, humping the air a few times, sending those enormous balls swinging.

“Aw, see that, darling? He’s so eager! Let’s get the formalities out of the way so you two can finally consummate your relationship,” Peter said. 

The pig had a thick collar on that dug into the rolls of fat on his neck, and Peter quickly fixed the end of Stiles’ leash to it before taking his spot in front of them. 

“Dear gathered,” Peter said cheerfully, even as Stiles hung his head, making desperate little noises. “We are here today to witness the union of this Pig and this lovely Piglet.”

The silly little boy tried to make a break for it, pulling his leash taut, but his future husband was having none of it. He leaned down, snagging the leash in the middle with his maw and dragging Stiles close enough to stand right next to him.

“Do you…” Peter combed through Stiles’ brain until he found the name of that one pig that he saw fuck a sow on his aunt’s farm when he was six… “Archibald, take this Piglet to be your wedded wife, to fuck and to breed, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you apart?”

Archibald grunted, a thick glob of drool falling from his mouth.

Peter nodded, trying to keep his face serious.

“And do you, Stiles, take this Pig as your wedded husband, to fuck you and breed you full, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you apart?”

Stiles shook his head, his eyes filled with tears, but Peter could feel the truth in the galop of his thoughts around him, the heat in his mind. He kneeled down beside the boy and reached under him, grabbing his hard cock and squeezed it until Stiles whined, his eyes rolling back.

“I will take that as a yes,” Peter said with a laugh before turning to ‘Archie.’

“You may kiss the bride.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at udunie.tumblr.com
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked it!


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